


Heat

by nerdqueenenterprise



Series: Kisses - Chril Edition [6]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, also mentions of chris being a lil shit, mentions of poor phil being liquified in the heat of the mojave desert, porn with fluff and giggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: For the Kiss Meme - Prompt 31 "Eskimo kisses" (or not Eskimo kisses because that is actually offensive so it should be Inuit kisses)The boys spend some downtime at Chris' parents' farm in the Mojave Desert, and Phil doesn't deal well with the heat. Chris is a great lover and teases Phil relentlessly, eventually forcing him into physical activity more strenuous than slowly melting into the recliner.





	Heat

The air begins cooling down sometime around five, the sun still casting the ranch in golden light, and slowly Chris is able to actually understand what he’s reading again. It’s nothing important, just some kind of crime novel he found that’s not too awfully convoluted to read during the oppressive heat of midwestern summer.

Phil gives the first sign of being alive at half past, a little grunt and a tiny shift in position, his arm falling off the couch and somehow ending up right in Chris’ hair and Chris pushes back against it immediately, begging to be pet, and Phil complies automatically.

    “Welcome back in the land of the living,” Chris teases gently, earning himself what might just have been an exceptionally weak tug at his hair.

Phil moans, “‘M dyyyyying.”, and Chris can’t help but snort.

    “Oh, get over it, it’s not that bad.”

Phil grumbles out some other nonsensical sounds and then goes back to petting Chris’ hair.

    “You won’t even have to cook,” Chris offers a bit cheekily. “Mom left us dinner to last a couple days.”

    “Oh, joy.”

Chris goes as far as leaning over and up to nip at the soft skin of Phil’s torso for that comment, because hey, his mom is a great cook and it’s not her fault he didn’t get that gene. Phil bats him away with a couple more groans.

    “Next time we go visit the other side of your family. God, I bet Switzerland is nice this time of the year… slightly warm, you’ll tan nicely, lots of nice cows and flowers on the, what are they called, alms I think?”

    “Almen.”

    “Yeah, that. And if you go far enough up there’ll even be snow, Christopher, cool, delicious, wonderful snow. Can you imagine anything better?”

Chris laughs. “I think you have a very romantic understanding of Switzerland, darling.”

    “At least it wouldn’t have the approximate temperature of Satan’s asscrack. Minus the humidity.”

    “Hey, keep badmouthing my home or you won’t get laid tonight!”

    “Chris, if you think I’ll let you anywhere close to my naked body, you are sorely mistaken. There is nothing more disgusting than another human on this planet.”

Chris sighs and pretends to give up the fight. Phil sighs too and flops an arm over his face, and that’s when Chris strikes, scrambling to his knees lightning-fast and picking his lover up bridal style.

Phil groans, low and suffering. “Put me down, you absolute dick. You’re touching my skin and it’s disgusting.”

Chris laughs and rubs his nose against Phil’s, easily distracting him from where he’s going.

He dumps Phil into the warm water of the pool with a flourish and Phil squeals like a piglet, flopping uselessly for a few moments before he’s got his movements under control.

There’s a moment of total quiet as Phil seizes Chris, who warily takes a step back, up, and then he’s splashing towards Chris and Chris takes off running around the house, laughing a bit crazily, maybe because he’s got a heatstroke, maybe because it feels good to break out of the reverie.

He ducks into the stable where the air is thick enough to cut, dust dancing in golden rays of sunlight, and the few horses who have chosen the oppressive shadow barely acknowledge his existence.

Phil doesn’t come after him. Chris sidles up against a wall, considering his tactical superiority when Phil would come through the door. He takes care not to breathe too loudly, wouldn’t wanna tip Phil off.

Something cold and wet hits the back of his neck and he shrieks, immediately ducking away from the assault but getting hit again in the shoulder, his chest, his face, leg, side until he’s almost on his knees and shaking with laughter.

Phil winks at him over the barrel of the bright neon orange water gun. He’s already almost dry again and lets himself be hauled into a giggly kiss, too much touching to be really comfortable and the gun is in the way but his eyes are sparkling with mirth so Chris allows himself to linger for a moment longer.

Phil’s fingers ruffle through the hair on Chris’ chest. “You, me, pool. Now.”

Chris gives a lazy salute and lets himself be dragged to the pool.

 

They have a splash battle and then some kind of roughhousing battle and then they end up making out against the edge of the pool, tiles pressing into Chris’ back and they both moan into the kiss, the closeness a bit too much, bit too hot, bit too oppressing but also so damn good. Chris tilts his head back as Phil gets to his neck, sucking all the hickeys he wants into the soft skin he finds. It’s not a thing they usually do, especially not marking each other in such public places. He hooks a leg around his lover’s waist and Phil presses in some more, lining them up as much as possible. Chris strokes over the broad plane of Phil’s back, seeking out the tender spots that make him suck just a bit harder. He rolls his hips, pressing their swelling erections together and Phil growls.

    “We should take this inside.”

Their eyes meet and Chris grins. “We should take this to the nearest horizontal surface with lube located conveniently close.”

Phil rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah.  _ Inside _ .”

It dawns on him a second later. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Chrissy.”

Chris laughs and kisses him, nudging their hips together again.

    “You planned this.” Phil doesn’t sound quite as accusing as he’d surely like.

    “Nah, I just like being prepared.”

    “That you do, yeah.” Phil’s gentle smile against Chris’ cheek belies the way he’s groping at his lover’s ass. “What, did you go around the house hiding bottles of lube everywhere while I was saying goodbye to your parents?”

    “Something like that.”

Phil shakes his head and pushes away. 

    “Incorrigible,” he mutters and makes for the ladder. Chris is behind him in two strong strokes, holding him back by his shoulders and rubbing himself against Phil, who swirls around and pins Chris against the wall again, licking a stripe up his neck and Chris shudders a bit at that, body wilfully going lax.

    “You are such a goddamn nuisance, Christopher,” Phil growls, and Chris’ breath hitches. He watches his lover from under lowered lashes for a few moments before he grins dangerously.

    “Put me into my place?” he asks, excitement fluttering in his chest.

Phil deliberately steps back and observes Chris, the bit of pink tongue peeking out from between his lips, the tiny smirk on his face.

    “It’s far too fucking hot to have sex,” he mutters, watching the smirk turn into a pout. “So come on, get over to the porch, let’s get this over with.”

Chris lights up, pressing a quick kiss to Phil’s cheek and then bounding over to the ladder and out of the pool like some kind of really weird puppy.

 

Chris has already draped himself artfully over the reclining chair when Phil gets to the porch. His pants have left the physical realm and he’s running the barest tips of his fingers over his very hard dick. There’s the promised lube dangling from the fingers of his other hand, and he looks far too happy with himself.

Phil shakes his head but can’t not grin in excitement, stripping off his clothes as if they were short on time, and then he descends on Chris’ waiting body, pressing himself against his lover’s far too hot skin, but it feels so damn good, the way Chris tilts his jaw and lets himself be kissed, the way he moans and how his breath feels when it ghosts over his skin.

He opens easily under Phil’s knowing fingers, whining in appreciation for each drag of fingers over his prostate.

They end up gasping hot breaths against each other, groins pushing together in lazy circles.

Phil pushes in a third finger and Chris groans, arching his back, scrabbling for a hold on Phil’s biceps, fingers slipping on the sweaty skin and Phil laughs, rubbing over Chris’ prostate until his lover sobs with the electric pleasure.

The sweat makes the drag of their cocks against their stomachs easier, but when Phil tries to hook Chris’ legs around his waist it gets difficult and they both laugh, a bit out of breath, but then Phil presses in and Chris throws his head back against the back of the recliner, eyes closed in bliss and gasping soft little sounds. 

    “This was a bad idea,” Chris pants out and Phil laughs, voice a bit higher than normal because damn, Chris is so tight and so hot and it takes a bit out of him to not start thrusting away right immediately.

    “Want me to stop?” he teases, and predictably Chris clenches up around him, trying to draw him in some more.

    “Nah. ‘s just so fucking hot.”

    “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling you for a couple hours now.” Phil leans down to kiss at the corner of Chris’ mouth.

    “The closer you get to me the hotter it is though,” Chris argues, kissing back.

Phil snaps his hips forward in a hard thrust, figuring Chris has had enough time to acclimatise. “Physical phenomenon named body heat, you doof.”

Chris whines and pushes back against the thrust, bucking his hips and generally doing a lot of things that are gonna mess with Phil’s rhythm if he doesn’t stop.

    “Was tryna flirt with - oooh, yes, do that again.”

So Phil does, settling on his forearms around Chris and lets instinct take over, driving into his lover and enjoying every sound he draws forth. Chris does his best to help because they’re getting more and more slippery with sweat.

Phil worms a hand between their stomachs and jerks Chris in time with his thrusts and that has him jerking upwards, gasping little breaths into Phil’s ear, and “God, yes, right there, Phil, right there, ah, yes, yes, please,” and he comes with a guttural sound, thrusting up against Phil and clenching around him, and Phil follows suit, gasping his lover’s name into his skin.

They pant in unison for a few long minutes until they are definitely in serious danger of overheating and Phil rolls off to lie on the relatively cool ground, ignoring the mess for the time being.

    “I fucking hate the desert,” he says without any real heat, and Chris chuckles, low and content.

    “Not my fault the AC breaks the minute my parents step out of the house.”

    “Yeah, well, let’s hope they can send someone out here tomorrow, otherwise I’ll come live in the freezer.”

Chris sits up with a flourish. “Ooh, Phil, we could have ice cream for dinner. Come on, I’ll get some!”

    “Maybe rather get a washcloth,” Phil calls after him and then closes his eyes. Sex was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. The air is already practically melting. Why would anyone have sex in these temperatures? Oh god, his brain probably melted.

Chris’ return is announced by the soft pit-pat of naked feet on wood, and then there’s a cool, but not too cold washcloth running over his stomach, cleaning the come and lube off of him, and then there’s a second washcloth running over the places where his skin is thin and easily absorbs coolness. And then his lower lip is being nudged by something he can identify as a spoon, and then the absolutely unreal cool of … mmh, stracciatella ice cream is invading his mouth.

    “I love you,” he says as soon as he’s able, and then he blinks up at Chris, who’s happy and smiling and maybe enduring this heat isn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

    “Next time we go to Switzerland,” Chris promises and feeds Phil another spoonful of ice cream.

**Author's Note:**

> this was totally not inspired by my dumb ass sitting itself on a horse at precisely noon yesterday lmao. in fact it was inspired by the general temperatures of yesterday. i'm a delicate flower (like phil) who wilts at anything over 25 degrees...  
> anyways! thank you for reading :) 6 down, 39 to go! (if i actually make it through all 45 prompts i think i deserve something cool, like a space ship or a hug from chris pine or something...)


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